Speech is so overrated
by Mrs.Lautner97
Summary: I am silent. I haven't spoken to anyone for at least six years. Not because i can't, but because i chose not to. I've been in care since my mom committed suicide but i won't be here for long. You see, i have a friend. Not the normal kind. But then i never said my life was normal, did i?
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own twilight. Stephanie Meyer does. Any noticeable scenes and characters where created by her, this is just how I thought twilight should have happened. Please read, Hope you like it.**

BELLA'S P.O.V:

In every neighbourhood there is one family with a secret that no one talks about. in my neighbourhood, that was my family. what if , one day, you realised you had the power to change everything? what if it was beyond your control? what if you didn't know what to do with what you had? what would you do?

I was eight years old when I realised that I wasn't normal. I was eight years old when I found out that I was a freak. I was scared, shocked, and amazed at what I discovered. but them emotions soon vanished when I discovered I was cursed. at first it was great. my mother had read stories to me when I was younger. about super heroes and bad guys. I remember thinking that I wish I was just like them. maybe I wished to hard.

There are other people out there that can do what I do. There has to be. I cant be the only one. Can I? it's not like I can Google it. So I guess unless I bump into them, I'll never know.

Apart from my discoveries I'd say im a pretty normal person. But the other kids in this place think im weird. I don't wanna be. I wanna be normal. I have to try to be normal, before its to late.

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AN: This is my third fanfiction and i hope you like it so far. I know this chapter didn't really tell you anything but i just thought i'd keep the Mystery going. If you want to read the next chapter REVIEW! Thanks for taking the time to read it.

xoxo


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own twilight. Stephanie Meyer does. Any noticeable scenes and characters where created by her, this is just how I thought twilight should have happened. Please read, Hope you like it.**

BELLA'S P.O.V:

My name is Isabella Marie Swan. Bella for short. Not that anybody ever calls me that anymore. I'm sixteen and I'm an orphan. Right now I'm in a group home with lots of other kids of various ages. Both male and female. I have been an orphan Since I was eight years old, so roughly about eight years. Or you could say I've been here half my life. Well, not here exactly because I only come to this group home about a year ago. In eight years I have been in twelve group homes and seven foster homes. Nobody has ever wanted to adopt me. But that's okay because I like been on my own. Its better to only have to look after myself. To only care for myself. Well, that's what I keep telling myself anyway. After eight years you kind of get used to nobody wanting you. It becomes natural.

I've been in group homes for as long as I can remember so I don't really remember my parents. All I know is that my father was called Charlie, he was a police officer. And my mother was called Renee, she was a kindergarten teacher. When I was seven my farther, Charlie, was shot dead while at work. A year later my mother decided she couldn't cope with the grief so she committed suicide. I was okay, for a while. I've always been independent, so I was used to been alone. But as the days went by there was less and less food and I had no way of getting more. There was no one to bring home money for grocery shopping. So in the end there was no groceries. Days turned in to a week, and by Sunday I was starving. I had no energy, I couldn't move.

I just laid there. On the sofa. Unmoving. And the smell. The smell was so bad. The smell was my mother. Dead. In the bathroom. She had cut her wrists in the bath, she then proceeded to overdose on sleeping tablets, washed down with a glass of vodka. Great way to die, huh? Imagine my shock when I went to use the toilet as I got home from school. I didn't know what to do. I was only eight, you know. So I did the only thing I could think of, at the time, and turned the running taps off. I left my mother in the bloody water and closed the door behind me after I had closed her eyelids. I would use the bathroom downstairs.

After a few days people started to get worried. I hadn't been to school in three days due to my starvation, and my mother hadn't turned up for work. I hadn't answered any of the phone calls as I didn't know how to work the phone. Non of the mail had been received from the post box and it was now overflowing with letters. People knocked on the door. No answer. Eventually my next door neighbor decided to try the back door. Which was unlocked. The door had been left open in my rush to use the bathroom and I forgot to close it again. He walked through the back door to find me lying on the sofa. He rushed to my side. After checking I was still, in fact, alive he phoned the ambulance. He then found my mother and she was taken away, on a stretcher. I never saw her again after that. I didn't even go to her funeral. If she even had one.

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AN: thank you for reading my story. hope you like it. please tell me what you think and REVIEW, FAVORITE AND FOLLOW this story (and my others).

xoxo


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